


And It All Will Fade to Black

by FenyxNyteRyder



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Knights & Dragons, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Blood, Death, Demons, M/M, Non-canon Names, amecan Holiday Exchange, elf knights, nine pages of pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:32:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9465488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FenyxNyteRyder/pseuds/FenyxNyteRyder
Summary: Ya’akov and Ta’oma are travelling together despite their odd arrangement. Maiahel and Alfred show signs of mutual affection but an outside force stops them for being together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for @hinata28h for the @amecan-exchange 2016-17 Tumblr Holiday Exchange.
> 
> Characters: Maiahel (Canada, Elf Knight), Ya’akov (2p!Canada, Elf Prince), Ta’oma (2p!America, Warlock), Alaerth “Alfred” (America, Dragon Knight), Arthur (England, Wizard & Seer), Oliver (2p!England, Half-Elf Knight), Iakobos (2p!France, Elf King)

 

“Sir, please, if I could just have a moment of your time,” the green-eyed man stated, his voice strained and his boots clicking against the stone floor as he struggled to keep pace behind the crown prince down the castle corridor, his silver and green robes swirling around his figure.

 

“Arthur,” the prince murmured, voice still laden with sleep as he continued his march down the halls, tired dark violet eyes glancing over his shoulder momentarily at the blond wizard. “You know that normally I would, but my father has summoned me to a meeting and he’d have my head if I were to keep him waiting…”

 

“A-Ah, yes, that may be so, Prince Ya’akov, Your Grace,” Arthur’s ginger-headed companion spoke up, his bright blue eyes filled with melancholy, “but we believe that this is an urgent matter...involving your...knights…”

 

The words caused Ya’akov to slow his gait, turning to look down at Arthur and Oliver with a scowl on his lips, though there was the faintest hint of a rosy flush rising to his cheeks. “If you are referring to the relations that they have with one another, I assure you that it is already quite known and I have no objections to them being together so long as it does not interfere with their performance and jobs as my knights.” After all, it wasn’t like he himself hadn’t been on the occasional receiving end of both Maiahel’s and Alfred’s affections. Though those had started becoming fewer and more far between ever since the day that Ya’akov’s father announced that the prince was to be betrothed to a prince from an opposing land in order to secure an alliance with their former enemy.

 

“It’s not about that!” Arthur snapped, frustration lining his brow before he seemed to recollect himself, taking a deep breath and massaging his temples as a headache began to rise up and make the backs of his eyes ache. “It’s--” The wizard broke off, grimacing and glancing around as several of the castle’s elven staff passed by the trio that were lingering in the hallway. Leaning closer towards the elf prince, Arthur lowered his voice. “Listen here, Your Highness, I don’t give a bloody damn who’s fucking who.” Oliver shot Arthur an incredulous look, seemingly offended by the wizard’s apparent lack of respect while addressing a member of the High Court. “But if someone doesn’t act soon, then the lives of both of your knights are going to be in mortal peril.”

 

Ya’akov clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to grind his teeth together in frustration as he looked between Arthur and Oliver as though he were desperately searching for answers in either of their expressions. However, whatever he found there did little to answer any of his questions, leaving the prince to let out a resigned sigh, a hand sliding down his face tiredly. “Okay. You have five minutes to explain--” he made a vague hand motion in the air between the wizard and knight in front of him, “--whatever it is that’s going on here.”

 

Oliver let out a relieved sigh that the crown prince had accepted, bowing to the tall elf. “Thank you, Your Majesty. We’ll do our best. Please follow me,” the ginger-haired knight murmured, glancing around to make sure that the three of them were not being watched before heading off down the corridor with Arthur and Ya’akov on his heels before ducking inside one of the nearest rooms that they could find after making sure that the chambers were empty.

 

Turning toward the pair as Oliver gently closed the door behind them, Ya’akov crossed his arms over his chest, foot tapping almost impatiently against the floor as he waited for an explanation regarding the peculiar behaviour that Arthur and Oliver were exhibiting. “So? What is this all about?”

 

The pair seemed to hesitate before Arthur eventually cleared his throat and stepped forward, his hands clasped together in front of him. “I have strong reason to believe that Maiahel and Alaerth have been...cursed by a very dark type of black magick. One that is going to end up consuming their souls and causing either one or both of them to perish.” Arthur bit his lip, gesturing vaguely in the air. “I know that it sounds absurd, but something...or someone...has ended up bringing very powerful evil magick into your kingdom, Your Majesty, and I fear that your knights are the target and that you may very well end up being targeted next if the curse manages to take its course.”

 

“Oh? And what proof do you have of this?” Ya’akov asked softly, brows knitted together with concern though his gaze remained skeptical..

 

“Sir, if I may,” Oliver spoke up, cutting off any of Arthur’s possible protests, his fingers lightly tracing against the hilt of the sword that was strapped to his waist as he cleared his throat. He seemed to hesitate for a few moments before letting out a breath. “You know that Arthur is the best Royal Wizard and Seer that has ever worked within the walls of this castle and has been helping keep you safe for decades. Surely you could spare your doubts for another time?”

 

Ya’akov stared down at Oliver, silent for several moments before eventually he sighed and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Alright. Proceed,” came the mumbled response.

 

Arthur sent Oliver a grateful glance before clearing his throat and nodding. “Yes. This morning, I ended up having another vision that involved your knights. It showed that they would become in great peril while they’re on a journey together, a darkness surrounding them as they are attacked by these...odd creatures, and then…” Arthur trailed off, seeming to hesitate before looking up into the elven prince’s eyes. “And then it all faded to black. Everything faded to black. Their lives, your life, the lives of those within the kingdom, and eventually all those that inhabit the world. Everything will die and the world will be overrun by demons if they stay together with this...curse still infecting them.”

 

“The world…” Ya’akov mumbled under his breath, his complexion seeming to have taken on a certain sickly pallor. “Shit…” Biting his bottom lip, he reached out and placed a hand upon Arthur’s shoulder, grasping onto the other as he asked with a sense of urgency behind his voice, “When? When was this supposed to happen?”

 

The wizard’s eyebrows furrowed together, the emerald-eyed male seeming to struggle with remembering something before he shook his head. “I couldn’t tell you. I merely see a possible future; I can’t tell when it would exactly happen. But it did seem to be close to noon during the time of the attack.”

 

“At any rate, Your Grace,” Oliver spoke, stepping closer to the pair, “we need to go find Alfred and Maiahel so that Arthur can attempt to reverse the curse before something disastrous ends up happening. We couldn’t find them when we were looking around earlier, so we were wondering if you happened to know where they had gone off to, before the curse ends up killing them.” The half-elven knight paused, brows creasing with concern. “...You...do know where they are, correct?”

 

“I--” Ya’akov drew in a sharp breath. “I sent them on a patrol over an hour ago. There’s no telling where they could be by now.” Hesitating for just a moment, the prince hurried off toward the door of the room, opening it and gesturing for the wizard and knight to follow him. “Come on. We’re going to go look for them. My father can wait,” he called over his shoulder at Arthur and Oliver before jogging down the hallways, his cape billowing behind him and the others quick on his heels as they headed towards the stables.

 

“Do you have your sword on you, Your Grace?” the ginger-haired knight asked from his side, scrunching his nose up at the musty smell from within the stables. “I would advise that you have some form of weapon on you, in case we run into trouble along the way. It would not do well to have the heir to the throne slain in an act of unplanned impulse.”

 

Pausing in the process of saddling up his horse Calliope, Ya’akov shook his head. “You’re right, but there’s no time to head back to my chambers or the armory to be able to get them.”

 

“Arthur, if you’ll finish saddling up my horse, I can make a quick run to the prince’s chambers?” Oliver asked, looking over at the green-eyed wizard who merely frowned and nodded in response.

 

“Just don’t be too long. There’s no telling how much time it’ll take to reach Alfred and Maiahel, and each second that we waste here is a second longer that they are under the curse and in possible peril,” Arthur mumbled, in the process of tightening one of the straps on the saddles.

 

With a nod, Oliver was running out of the stables and into the castle. Once he was gone, the wizard glanced over at the elf prince, his gaze inscrutable.

 

“What is it, wizard? Speak your tongue,” Ya’akov muttered, biting the inside of his cheek as he brushed down Calliope’s golden hair, his foot soon slipping into the stirrup as he hoisted himself onto the back of the mare.

 

Arthur was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up, his voice soft and sympathetic. “You love them, don’t you?”

 

Deep amethyst eyes gazed into emerald, the prince contemplating his words, before he whispered, “More than anything.” Taking the reins in his hands, he urged Calliope towards the entrance of the stables. “I’m going to go on ahead and wait for you and Oliver at the front of the castle, so that I can see if there’s any traces of which way that Maia and Alfred went off to,” Ya’akov stated, earning him a nod from the wizard before making Calliope trot off across the inner castle grounds. He had nearly reached the front gate before he heard his father’s voice calling out to him from the main entrance of the castle, a grimace crossing the prince’s face before his expression gained a bit more of an expressionless composure as he turned to look down at the enraged king.

 

There were few things that made King Iakobos infuriated, but the insubordination of his son and being kept waiting were two of those circumstances that seemed to make the elven king’s blood boil. Needless to say, his complexion was an unpleasant hue of crimson by the time that he had marched up to the prince sitting upon his steed. “What in the hell do you exactly think you’re doing other than completely blowing off the meeting that I had told you that you were required to attend? I couldn’t even begin to fathom what damned thing you think would be more important than securing peace negotiations that would keep our kingdom safe.”

 

“Well,  _ Father _ ,” Ya’akov sneered, the word sticking to his tongue with distaste, “I’m about to go out and  _ save _ our entire kingdom from being destroyed, and if you didn’t have a stick shoved so far up your ass, then you’d realize the danger that everyone is in if this isn’t stopped in time! Everything that I’ve ever done has been ‘ _ for the good of the kingdom _ .’” Perhaps he would regret those words later, but there was a sense of enjoyment as he saw the shock and anger that flashed through his father’s dark violet eyes.

 

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that tone,” the king muttered, a venomous edge to his voice. “We are talking about the union of two nations at stake. You are supposed to be setting an example of diplomacy and respect for your future husband! Not dashing all my work to pieces by gallivanting off with some  _ heroic _ notion that you’re going to end up saving the world. If you leave, then you’ll renounce all rights and claims to the throne!”

 

The words sent a shock through the prince, his grip subconsciously tightening on the horse’s reins. “...Future...husband?” Ya’akov’s gaze slowly trailed from where Iakobos was standing to the dark-skinned figure clad in a black feather cloak that was hovering behind the king, auburn hair and red cat-like eyes staring up at the prince with an inquisitive expression. “Ta’oma…” Soon however, Ya’akov overcame his initial shock, his jaw clenching as his countenance shifted to be more determined. “I don’t care what you say. I’m going. I’d rather live as a peasant in a thriving kingdom than to be an heir to a kingdom that is empty and worthless.”

 

Iakobos opened his mouth as though he were going to shoot out another snide, anger-fueled retort, but before he had the chance, the red-haired male spoke up, quirking an eyebrow. “Then I shall accompany you. I’m sure it would only be good decorum for me to attend my future husband’s activities. A bonding experience, sort to say.”

 

“Your Highness,” the king mumbled, seemingly taken aback, “I can’t simply allow you to--” He was cut off as Ta’oma waved his hand at the other, gesturing for the elf king to be silent.

 

“I believe that you  _ will _ allow me to, as my actions are not yours to control. I’m sure both of us together are skilled enough to have no need to worry about any danger that may attempt to come our way,” Ta’oma murmured, a small smirk tugging at his lips, though it quickly fell away at the sound of approaching hooves, two horses and their riders quickly coming into view.

 

“Prince Ya’akov,” Oliver called out, pulling back on the horse’s reins as he stopped next to the prince. “I have acquired your weapons for you,” he stated, handing over the sword and bow and arrows to the awaiting elven prince.

 

“We need to get a move on before we waste any more time with useless chitchat,” Arthur stated, a poorly concealed scowl on his face as he nearly glared at the king.

 

“My appreciation, Oliver,” Ya’akov murmured, taking the weapons and strapping them onto his body before taking the reins and nodding to Arthur. “You are correct. Let’s go,” the prince stated, turning his back on his father and giving a flick of the reins before Calliope began to gallop off out of the castle’s grounds, following the fresh hoofprints that had been stamped into the ground earlier from previously passing horses. He barely managed to hear the king’s outraged protests of “If you leave, you can never come back here!” before he and his companions were out of earshot.

 

Of course, that didn’t stop there from being some sort of hindrance to their progress, the thudding of an additional set of hooves following after the trio nearly ten minutes into their journey, Ya’akov glancing over his shoulder in confusion as he noticed the black steed and equally black clothed rider catching up to the prince and his companions. It wasn’t until the dark-skinned rider had drawn equal to Ya’akov that he recognized who it was.

 

Ta’oma, naturally.

 

“What are you doing here?” Ya’akov asked, his voice cold though not particularly hostile. He was more annoyed if anything. “If my father sent you to take me back to the castle, then you might as well fuck off.”

 

Ta’oma snorted, raising an eyebrow as an easy smile slid onto his face. “I could use a little adventure, and you could lighten up. It’s not like anything bad is actually going to happen, dollface.”

 

The prince narrowed his eyes at the red-eyed male, opening his mouth to respond before his attention was quickly directed elsewhere as a series of explosions that rocked the earth erupted in the distance. Ya’akov hastily turned his back on his fiance, calling out to Arthur and Oliver instead. “We should head in the direction of the explosions. I’d bet that’s where Maiahel and Alaerth are.”

 

As Ya’akov directed Calliope to change course and ride off into the direction that the explosions originated in, he missed the sneer that spread across Ta’oma’s face, a dark aura briefly flickering to life around the male before it subsided.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Come on, Alfred. Don’t be so slow,” Maiahel teased, flashing a smirk back at where his scaled companion was struggling to keep his horse in check as they rode through the field that surrounded the castle, heading closer to the woods.

 

“Hey! That’s easy for you to say. Yours doesn’t smell you and then automatically think ‘oh no, he’s going to eat me,’” the dragon muttered, running a hand through his blonde hair, while the other tightened on the horse’s reins. Fiddling with the edge of his blue tunic, Alfred brought the horse up next to his elven companion’s, glancing over at Maiahel. “So, uh, about tonight…”

 

The purple-eyed knight blinked, glancing over at the dragon with a tilt of his head before a sly smirk tugged at his lips and he was leaning closer to Alfred between the gap left by their horses. “Yes~? Were you wanting to do something?”

 

“Well--” Alfred cleared his throat, a soft chuckle slipping from his lips as he almost glanced away, the faintest hint of an embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks. “It’s been awhile since we snuck out and went up to that mountaintop lake like we did that one time during summer, so I thought--”

 

“You want me to ride you?” Maiahel asked nonchalantly before his smirk widened. “Or do you want me to  _ ride _ you, eh?” The elf’s gaze softened, his eyes sparkling with a fond light before he chuckled at Alfred’s flushed complexion. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m just teasing, but if you really want to--”

 

“Yeah. I mean, I do-- would like to, do that, stuff,” Alfred mumbled, puffing out his cheeks and huffing in response. “And you know that I hate being teased,” the dragon muttered, sending the knight a half-hearted glare.

 

“On the contrary, I happen to know that you certainly  _ love _ it when I tease,” Maiahel murmured in response, letting out an innocent whistle as he urged his horse into the woods, receiving a shout of protest from Alfred behind him. However, his giddy mood soon became dampered as he glanced around the forest. Everything seemed...quiet. Too quiet and calm, like that before a storm. Or perhaps more accurately, the quiet before a predator attacks its prey, and if his horse’s nervous nickering and hoof-stomping was anything to go by, then he would have to bet that something incredibly dangerous was nearby. Or at least something that ate horses, which still put that creature on the edge of dangerous.

 

“Honestly though--” Alfred spoke up as he approached Maiahel, only to be cut off by the knight waving his arm in the air, the dragon’s eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. “What--”

 

“Shhh. I think there’s something nearby…” Maiahel murmured, eyes narrowing as he glanced around, slowly withdrawing his sword from the scabbard at his side.

 

“I don’t hear anything besides the wind,” Alfred whispered, lifting his nose towards the air and sniffing, a grimace quickly crossing his face. “Something reeks like rotting flesh and brimstone though, and it’s not my breath…”

 

The silence between the pair stretched on for several more moments, Alfred just about ready to turn to Maiahel and suggest that they turn back when a sudden violent screech filled the air, the bushes rustling nearly fifty feet in front of them and several jet black bodies charging out of the underbrush before leaping towards the pair of knights. The dragon tilted his head back, sucking in a breath before letting out a stream of flames at the horrid deformed creatures that quickly dropped to the ground in a writhing mass, though a couple managed to make it through the blue dragon fire and leapt at Maiahel. One was rapidly slashed in half while the other managed to latch onto the elf’s leg, sinking white teeth into the flesh and causing Maiahel to let out a scream of agony before he shoved the sword through the demonic creature’s head. However, just as quickly as the beings had come, even more began to take their place.

 

“Ambush! It’s an ambush!” Maiahel yelled at Alfred, backing the horse towards the edge of the forest. “Get out of the woods! Now!” Turning the steed around, Maiahel urged it into a gallop, attempting to maneuver through the wooded area and around the trees, unable to tell if his dragon had made it out of the woods yet himself. He had just about made it to the edge of the trees before a swarm of the black monsters scrambled out of the treetops, dropping down on top of the horse and sinking their claws and teeth into the poor equine, the knight being thrown from his steed in the process. Of course, it wasn’t the easiest task to stand on a wounded leg, and his cry of pain only caused the demons to turn their attention to the injured elven knight, his sword gripped tightly in his hand as he tried to steady himself against the trunk of the nearest tree, his vision beginning to blur around the edges and his leg feeling as though it were on fire.

 

Perhaps it was luck that kept the elf alive as a wall of blue flames suddenly roared to life, acting as a barrier between himself and the encroaching horde of demons. All that he could tell was that suddenly a strong arm was wrapped around his waist and hauling him up onto the back of a horse, more blue flames streaming towards the monstrous beings, several loud explosions following suit as the pair made their way out into the open field. “Hey, don’t worry, I got ya. We’ll get ya outta here,” the familiar voice murmured into Maiahel’s neck, allowing the elf to relax, if only for the moment before one of the explosions caused the pair to be thrown from the back of Alfred’s horse, landing heavily on the ground at the top of the hill. “Shit--”

 

Wheezing as the breath was knocked from his lungs, Maiahel lay stunned on the ground for several moments before managing several weak coughs as he struggled to a stand, looking around for his sword and noticing Alfred standing nearby, looking pale. “Alf, are you--?” He cut himself off as he looked out across the field, following the dragon’s gaze, and his stomach immediately churned unpleasantly. A large portion of the forest was blazing with dark violet flames, and among the flames were a countless number of writhing black bodies. “Dear goddess,” Maiahel breathed out, his eyes wide in fear. “We need to get back to the castle and rally the others.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Alfred mumbled before suddenly breaking down into a coughing fit, wheezing as he clutched his chest. When he withdrew his hand, his skin was coated in a thick black liquid, and that was when Maiahel finally noticed the thick gashes that had been slashed into the dragon’s chest by only what could’ve been demonic claws. “I don’t...feel good…” Alfred breathed out, his eyelids fluttering slightly before he collapsed into Maiahel’s outstretched arms, the knight struggling to keep the pair of them standing.

 

“Hey, hey, hey. Shhh, just focus on me,” Maiahel murmured, forcing back the tears that were threatening to gather in his eyes as he slowly lowered Alfred to the ground, his hands smoothing against the dragon’s face before a wave of gut-wrenching dizziness overtook the knight. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as black markings seemed to form against Alfred’s skin wherever he touched. “It’s going to be okay, Alfred. Everything is going to be fine,” the elf breathed out, though even he could hear his voice breaking as the dragon simply smiled up at him, tears spilling down Alfred’s cheeks. Maiahel could just barely make out the mouthed words that attempted to form on the dragon’s lips.

 

_ “I’m sorry...that I couldn’t protect you. That I couldn’t protect both of...us. Everything hurts, but I… I don’t regret anything, and I’ll always love you.” _

 

A gurgling growl caused Maiahel’s breath to catch in his throat, tear-filled violet eyes looking up at the towering black demon that stood before the pair, foul-smelling ichor oozing from the monster’s skin and dripping to the ground. This was it. He had no weapons, and no way to carry himself and Alfred out of there. This was going to be the end, Maiahel’s eyes squeezing shut as he anticipated the final blow that the demon was about to strike down upon him.

 

Alas, the strike never came. Instead a yell echoed in the distance, followed by the thud of an arrow burying itself into flesh and the wheeze of a being’s last breath before there was a thump of a body hitting the ground. The elf hesitantly opened his eyes to see the rapidly dissolving carcass of the demon melting into the earth, a relieved breath slipping from Maiahel’s lips that he didn’t realize he had been holding before he turned to see a group of four people riding up on horses.

 

“Maiahel! Alfred!” Ya’akov leapt down off of his horse, bow still in hand as he rushed over to where the knight was kneeling on the ground with the dragon, worry creasing his brow. “Are you okay? We need to get you out of…” His voice trailed off, as his gaze drifted down to where Alfred lay, taking in the severe wound on his chest before he called out over his shoulder. “Arthur, hurry, we need you! Alfred’s been hurt!” The prince reached out a hand to place upon Maiahel’s shoulder. Before he was even able to touch the knight, however, he quickly withdrew his hand with a hiss of pain, the prince’s hand stained black from the attempted touch.

 

“Dear god…” the wizard breathed out, eyes wide with panic as he knelt down beside the trio. “The curse has affected them far worse than I could’ve imagined. I’m not sure if I can manage to reverse it here. We’d have to take them back to the castle-- AaGh!” Arthur cradled his own hand close to his chest, recoiling from the wounded dragon that he had been attempting to heal with a grimace, his eyes wide as his emerald gaze flickered over to Maiahel, noticing that the other’s skin was turning unnaturally pale and that the veins beneath his skin had begun to turn black, showing prominently through the knight’s blanched skin. Swallowing thickly, Arthur shook his head, placing his hand upon Ya’akov’s arm and attempting to pull him away from where Maiahel and Alfred were laying. “There’s nothing that I can do--”

 

“No! No, there has to be something! They can’t just… They can’t just  _ die _ !” Ya’akov pleaded, resisting against the hand that was trying to guide him back towards the horses, the wizard stumbling away from the desperate prince.

 

“Your Grace,” Oliver spoke up from where he was standing next to his own horse, struggling in his efforts to keep the equine calm in the face of the demons that were encroaching upon their location. “We don’t have time--”

 

“It serves them right.”

 

The voice caused the group to turn towards the final person who was still on horseback, sneering down at the five figures that were on the ground. Ya’akov frowned, standing up and making his way towards where Ta’oma was seated. “And what the hell do you mean by that?”

 

“Exactly what I said,” Ta’oma stated, his gaze drifting to his fingernails that he began polishing nonchalantly against the edge of his feathered cloak. When he looked back up at the elven prince, his features twisted into a cruel sneer. “They deserve to die.”

 

“What the bloody--” Arthur started, stepping towards the dark-skinned male only to be held back by Oliver’s hand resting against his arm, the half-elf shaking his head.

 

“No, they  _ don’t _ !” Ya’akov spat back at Ta’oma, the prince nearly growling in frustration as he marched over to the red-eyed male and yanked him off of his horse by the collar of his cloak. “Why would you even  _ say _ that!? They’re my  _ knights _ !”

 

“Because you love them and don’t love me!” Ta’oma shot back at the elven prince, slapping the other’s hands away from him, a dark violet orb of magick energy forming in the red-headed male’s hand before he threw it at Ya’akov, the prince barely dodging out of the way in time.

 

Before Ya’akov had the chance to speak in retort or draw his sword, Arthur spoke up, his voice distant. “You… You’re the one that cast the curse on them...and caused the demons to come attack…”

 

“Arthur?” Oliver asked, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “What’s--”

 

“He’s a warlock,” Arthur hissed between his teeth, still clutching his injured hand to his chest and his eyes wide. “The offspring of a human and a demon coupling together. The other kingdom isn’t trying to secure a peace negotiation through the marriage. They’re trying to take over the kingdom by putting one of their own on the inside…”

 

Ta’oma’s lip curled in disgust as he looked over at the group. “You elves… You’re all the same. All of you were except for Ya’akov. He had been different and helped me when we were younger. I thought he cared and liked me! I thought we would be  _ happy together _ ! So why can’t you love me? Why am I not good enough for you? Why am I not good enough for you to marry? Why did you never show up whenever I came for visits? Why do you have to love them and not me!?” Ta’oma yelled frantically, reaching out a hand to grasp at Ya’akov’s shirtsleeve, only for the prince to quickly back away from the warlock which merely caused the redhead’s gaze to darken with anger and hatred. “If I can’t have you...then nobody can…”

 

Maiahel’s voice soon broke through Ya’akov’s concentration as he had been glaring at the warlock. “Alfred…? Alfred! Alaerth, wake up!” A choked sob ripped itself out of knight’s throat, his pleas becoming more desperate as he weakly shook the dragon’s still body. “Please... You can’t leave me!” Maiahel’s wails intensified, the sky darkening as though in response to the elven knight’s sorrowful keens, lightning sparking and thunder crackling across the sky.

 

Bracing his feet against the ground as a strong wind tore across the area, Ya’akov turned to Ta’oma, throwing a punch in the warlock’s direction, though the red-eyed male was able to easily dodge out of the way, swinging himself up onto the back of his black steed. “What did you do? What have you done!?”

 

“I did what I must. Hell hath no fury like a warlock scorned…” Ta’oma stated, glaring down at Ya’akov with a certain amount of disdain before a wide smile tugged at his lips. “Of course, you can always choose to come with me, and I will be willing to spare your life in the new world order, and we can rule together. Side-by-side, just you and I,” the warlock murmured, the faintest glimmer of hope in his eyes as he held out his hand. “What do you say?”

 

Ya’akov hesitated, if only for the briefest of moments, before he glanced over at where Alfred and Maiahel were, his eyes widening and his heart seeming to stop in his chest as he witnessed one of the demons plunging its shiny black claws through Maiahel’s torso, the elven knight slumping to the ground as the last hints of life faded from his now glassy violet eyes. As Ya’akov glanced around, ignoring the bile that was rising in his throat and the tears that were stinging the backs of his eyes, he realized that Oliver and Arthur were nowhere to be found among the black writhing mass of demons that continued to make their slow encroachment towards the warlock and the prince.

 

From the sky, a black tear seemed to form from the clouds down to the earth. A portal of sorts, Ya’akov could only guess, as he watched more demons pouring out from the dark rip in the air. Gritting his teeth together, the prince’s gaze shifted back to the warlock still seated on his horse, the same grin still on his face that only started to fade into a confused scowl as Ya’akov backed away from him.

 

“...You took everything that I loved away from me. I’d rather die. After all… The descent into hell is easy,” the prince stated, turning away from Ta’oma despite the warlock’s yells for him to stop as Ya’akov sprinted through the thrashing and clawing demons before he reached the portal. Without even sparing a glance backwards, Ya’akov dived headfirst into the portal, his body feeling as though it were being engulfed in flames and acid.

 

And soon enough, it all had faded to black.


End file.
